Nothing Like Revenge With A Few Tomatoes Thrown In
by mizztawky
Summary: Pippins done it, he's angered Merry for the last time - He may not have done it on purpose but Merry wants revenge! Sure chaos is bound to ensue!


**AN-Rite, well I know i haven't updated in absolutely ages! And i need to write a one-shot before i can actually get into updating some of my longer stories. So here it is and Hopefully I'll be updating my longer stories in the upcoming days. There is no excuse for the amount of time everyone has had to wait for me to update appart from the usual excuses (writers block, computer was down etc.) Hope you all enjoy this One-shot and please review, it makes my efforts feel worth while x] And it makes me update sooner for some reason!**

**Mizztawky xx**

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**Nothing Like Revenge With A Few Tomatoes Thrown In**

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Pippin raced round a corner, narrowly missing the tomato which sailed passed past his right ear. Said tomato met a wall and disintegrated into a million little pieces, followed by a a splat as it made impact.

Pippin kept running; his legs having no intention to stop, no matter how dior the need for a breathe to fill his air starved lungs. His golden curls danced wildly above his head as he leaned left to avoid yet another tomato. This tomato landed flat next to the heel of his foot - Merry's aim was getting better!

"Pippin!"

An enraged Merry slowly came into view behind Pippin; red faced and looking as if he'd been swimming. His clothes and hair was dripping and he even had drops falling from the tip of his nose.  
Pippin had to duck this time, to avoid what fruit had been targeted for his head. He really couldn't see what all the bother was about. After-all, he hadn't meant to spill a full barrel of ale over his best friend, it just sort of happened...like all the other calamities that people suffered around Pippin. He was just that sort of unfortunate person.

Eventually, to Pippins respite, he could see some nearby Hobbit Holes. Maybe the folk nearby would help him, that is if they weren't to busy with their own lives that is.

He quickly stumbled up the steps to the front door of the nearest Hobbit Hole, the garden was well kept; maybe that meant that the inhabitants would be. He knocked repeatedly on the yellow door.  
A short stubby Hobbit answered, his inquisitive eyes analyzing the young Hobbit before him; he raised a speculative eyebrow when his gaze fixed upon the numerous red fruit stains on Pippin's newly washed shirt.

"May I help you young sir?"

Pippin looked up quickly and spread a sheepish smile across his face.

"You can actually!"

The stubby Hobbit raised his other eyebrow suspiciously.

Pippin looked back in the direction that he'd just come from; a familiar voice and a full head of curly hair was just becoming visible. He yelped and ran straight into the Hobbit's house, not caring whether he'd been invited in or not.

He ran straight into what must have been the kitchen and without looking ran smack into a cupboard door. He lay gingerly on the floor rubbing his injured head, which was sure to break out into a lump after the force in which he'd collided with the cupboard. _Who in their right mind would leave open a cupboard - then again who in their right mind would run right into one?_ He thought to himself.  
Stifled laughter echoed from the table followed by a few snort here and there.  
_Great,_ thought Pippin again; _I had an audience_!  
Shakily, he got to his feet and made sure to close the cupboard, he didn't want any more accidents with doors. After shutting the said door, a familiar face beamed at him from across the table. Sam.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Asked Pippin, whos response consisted of another uproar of laughter.

"How hard did you hit your head?"

Pippin didn't respond he instead stood still with a look of confusion masking his face.

"Its my 'ouse you plonker! The man who opened the door, that's my Gaffer that is!" smiled Sam happily.

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Merry had finally reached the nearby Hobbit Holes, he passed the first only to find that a stubby Hobbit was stood at his door protectively.

On seeing the armful of fruit in Merry's arms, a glint of humor passed over the Hobbits features.

"Ayyy, you younguns be nothing but trouble!"

Merry looked down to the bundle in his arms and shrugged.

"Only when it involves revenge!"

The older Hobbit grunted once, a sense of curiosity in his eyes.

"And what's sparked your fume then young sir?"

Merry told the Hobbit of all the accounts of the day - which involved Pippin spilling ale down him and all things leading up to the chase; the fat Hobbit did nothing but chuckle.

"Thought I smelt a brewery I did!"

Merry sighed.

"You haven't seen this Hobbit by any chance have you? Golden hair, about two inches smaller than myself?"

The stubby Hobbit stole a steely glance into his kitchen, where he'd heard Pippin collide with what sounded like his cupboard door. The Hobbit then turned to Merry and shook his head.

"Nope, 'fraid not. Though I'll keep a look out if you'd like?"

The Gaffer then lent down next to Merry and whispered into his ear, so that no one in the kitchen could hear.

"Just tell me where you want him!"

Merry smiled slyly before replying.

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Pippin was sat down with Sam at the table, nursing a mug of hot tea when they heard the door bang shut. He quickly scrambled under the table; a pair of sturdy gray boots met him, too bulky to be Merry's.

Pippin raised his head but missed the opening and hit the top of his head on the corner of the table with a crack, he then emerged holding his head with both arms.

"Dropped my spoon!" He lied, forcing a painful smile onto his face.

The Gaffer looked to Pippins mug, where the spoon lay and then back to where he stood; clutching his throbbing head.

"In the wars today aren't we?'

"In the wars every day" mumbled Pippin.

The Gaffer laughed and then slumped down into a chair next to the two lads.

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Three hours had passed by since Pippin had invited himself into Sam's house for protection from Merry. The Gaffer had thought it a good idea to go down to the pub, his words exactly: Ya look like ya cold do with a drink!  
So Pippin had borrowed some of Sam's older clothes - which didn't fit too badly and the three had made their way down to the Prancing Pony Inn.

Once in the pub; a stale ale smell met their noses. The Gaffer went off and joined in conversation with a few other Hobbits over in the corner of a room; whilst Sam shyly scuttled over to a seat where Rosie was serving drinks. Pippin walked straight over to the bar and parked himself into a bar stool.

"A mug of ale please!" ordered Pippin.

The guy behind the bar nodded, he had his hood pulled over his face as if not wanting to be noticed. Pippin watched as the guy reached behind and pulled out a fresh barrel of ale from behind him; but Pippin wasn't quite ready for the next part.

The hooded person suddenly pulled of the top and lifted the barrel high above Pippin's head; allowing its contents to fall freely over the young Hobbit, and when Pippin looked at the person again, their hood had fallen revealing an extremely satisfied Merry. The entire pub burst into an uproar, laughing and having a jolly time.  
Merry looked at Pippin's shocked face.

"Told ya I'd get you back Pip"

The two smiled at each other before downing a mug of ale each.

The Gaffer laughed in a corner, whilst sipping the contents of his mug, when Sam appeared next to him; a sly smile spread across his face.

"You were in on this weren't you Gaffer?"

The Gaffer just chuckled and the rest of the Hobbits had an enjoyable evening. If there's one lesson to learn - then its that revenge is sweet!

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**Again, I'm so sorry i haven't been updating; but I'm back for good! (I hope) =] Please leave a Review, let me know that my work is being read!**

**DISCLAIMER-I own nothing but the plot, all characters belong to the all wonderfull J.R.R Tolkien!**

**Mizztawky xx**


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